


Conatix's Laws of Biotic Impossibilities

by AsMyWimseyTakesMe



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, BAMF Kaidan, BAaT (Brain Camp), Gen, Human Experimentation, I love Hackett SO MUCH, Little Black Dress Challenge, Sentinel/Guide, Vyrnnus is an abusive dick, physical/mental/emotional abuse, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 09:35:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7710070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsMyWimseyTakesMe/pseuds/AsMyWimseyTakesMe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When human biotics appeared and Conatix was contracted to test and train them, a small group of Conatix scientists created an informal list titled the "Laws of Biotic Impossibilities." While parts of the list would be amended over the next few years, there was one "law" considered set in stone:</p><p>"Human biotics with the SG gene are incapable of coming online as Sentinel or Guide."</p><p>Trust Kaidan to be the one to blow <em>that</em> out of the water.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Usually I put notes at the end (and there will be some at the end), but I figured my readers should have a heads-up. This has been both edited and beta-ed, and so **all errors, spelling and grammatical, were made on purpose**. The errors (unless my beta and I missed one or two) are all in chapter parts where people are chatting online, which means they're typing fast and aren't bothering with proper grammar/spelling, much like most people on the Internet today. Get it? Got it? Good.
> 
> As always, my beta is the lovely [SvengoolieCat](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SvengoolieCat), who is very sweet and helpful even if she knows nothing about Mass Effect. :)

_“Biotics are individuals who were exposed to dust-form element zero, or colloquially, “eezo,” in utero and subsequently developed eezo nodules throughout their nervous systems. These nodules can generate mass effect fields when energized by electrical impulses from the brain. Now, if you’re thinking about standing around a spaceport and hoping you’ll soak in some dust-form eezo, think again. Eezo exposure is by no means guaranteed to result in biotic ability. On the contrary, while we don’t know much about biotic talents in general, we do know that most fetuses exposed to eezo are not affected at all, while others will develop brain tumors or other horrific complications. Only about one in ten human eezo-exposed infants will develop biotic talents that are strong and stable enough to merit training, and these abilities are not always permanent. Then, of course, there is the problem of implants…”_

–audio excerpt from lecture on biotics, given by Dr. Julia Fava of Conatix Industries, Yale University (1)

 

***

 

 ** _krogan4prez_** on **conspiracies.wordy.blog** :

            Anyone read this article yet? He’s got some good points.

 ** _krogan4prez_** shared _GalacticTimesWeb_ article “Accidental exposures? I think not! Conatix and Human Biotics” by investigative journalist Henry Wong.

 _**asarinotsorry** : _OMG! It must be ture! There are sso many human biotics now! They must be doing it on purpose!!!

 _**shutyerpiecrust** : _C’mon, everyone knows its because all the kids who got exposed to eezo are either dead or finally showing this biotic “potential.” Stick with the real problems, like the Council forcing humans into slavery to fucking turians.

 _**ImBatman**_ : Dude, harsh! Some of us might know the ones who died because of eezo exposure!

 _**BigStupidJellyfish**_ : All the kids are hitting puberty and all, but more keep showing up. And like he said in the article, Conatix finds em really quick. Maybe too quick. And then they don’t let em talk to their parents!! Who knows what they’re doing?

            _**theVEGAguns** : _@ _shutyerpiecrust_ slaves to turians? really? man, I know this blog’s for conspiracies and all, but even that’s a little loco for me. and don’t you guys think the alliance would, you know, KNOW if conatix was doing something weird? they got sentinels and shit, they’d figure it out.

 _**CuriousCat**_ quoted from _GalacticTimesWeb_ article “Accidental exposures? I think not! Conatix and Human Biotics” _:_

“While the BAaT project has some oversight from Alliance bureaucrats, few people without official invitations or connections to the project are allowed on board Gagarin Station. Sentinels and Guides are particularly banned. When I reached out to Conatix Industries, they informed me that they had banned psi-sensitive individuals, which included Sentinels and Guides, due to “possible psionic interference.” I asked for an explanation, and the representative said that biotics suppressed the SG gene of a latent individual and rendered them dormant, and they did not know how an encounter with a biotic individual would affect psi-sensitive humans. They also believe strong psionics, such as Guides, could skew their data, with the apparent assumption that biotics affect the psionic plane, not just genetics. As of now, there is little scientific research to back up their claim. One wonders why Conatix is not eager to bring a Pair to the station and conduct some safe experiments. But then, we all know that Sentinel/Guide oversight is cause for alarm in certain quarters.”

 _**CuriousCat**_ shared video “L1 biotic Anna Korova questioned secretly by government!” from _AnonVideoTube_ :

 _Video summary_ : L1 biotic Anna Kotova, daughter of Senator Nadia Kotova, testifying before the newly-created Alliance Parliamentary Subcommittee for Transhuman Studies in a secret hearing. 

*the video is shaky and at an odd angle, as if the recorder is using an omnitool; it shows a courtroom-esque area, with a committee of men and women staring down at a tiny blonde woman flanked by an Alliance officer and a woman in a sharp suit; the blonde’s voice is accented and echoes in the recording*

“ _Yes, we face prejudice, but those who distrust us also distrust Sentinels and Guides. They see biotics lift objects or tear apart enemies, and they equate our abilities with the gifts of online Sentinels and Guides, particularly Guides. This is incorrect. Yes, biotics can be dangerous. As the asari have proven, biotics are a trump card when it comes to fighting. However, as far as I know—and I think I would know, considering I am a biotic—these abilities do not allow us access to the psionic plane. They are physical, not mental. No matter what those prejudiced against us believe, biotics cannot read minds or emotions_.”

*the recording ends with a gruff question and a hand reaching toward the screen*

            **_theVEGAguns_** : damn

 

***

 

 **Conatix Internal Message System** (Gagarin Space Station, 6:21 pm)

 **taglio_giuseppe:** I added a new law to the List; no human biotic has the ability to create AND control a singularity

 **rodriguez_mark:** I thought they were making progress?

 **taglio_giuseppe:** well, Henderson made a singularity

 **rodriguez_mark:** and?

 **taglio_giuseppe:** and he lost control and almost tore himself apart before Alenko slapped a barrier on him. he’ll be in the infirmary for a week at least; a week of data, gone!

 **rodriguez_mark:** well shit, of all the trainees I thought he would be able to swing it; these L2 implants are so damn unreliable. one of the kids in Paula’s group almost managed asari-level control when putting together that 10-kilo puzzle, and the next day he was having seizures.

**[fava_julia entered chat]**

**fava_julia:** that Wong article is making the rounds again

 **taglio_giuseppe:** relax, the guy’s a crackpot, no one reads his stuff unless they’re bored, conspiracy theorists, or stuck in a waiting room

**[connor_jamie entered chat]**

**connor_jamie:** there’s chatter in the High Poobah’s office

 **rodriguez_mark:** aw damn, don’t tell me they’re actually going to allow the Alliance to send up an SG Pair, I knew having a non-scientist in charge would screw us over!

 **fava_julia:** god, think of the paperwork. and you know the L2s will start going to them when they start seeing things again or having migraines, and it’ll skew all our data! and you know they’ll force us to wait on any new trainees until the L3 implants are ready because they’re “safer”

 **connor_jamie:** keep your lab coat on, it’s just chatter, let’s wait and see. hey, did you know the trainees have nicknamed BAaT Brain Camp?

 

***

 

“The L1 implants can be forgiven for their failures; they were a first attempt by a young species to control the burgeoning abilities of newfound biotics. However, in their greed for stronger, more asari-like biotics, Conatix has created an implant that is almost worse than the seizure-inducing, constantly-shorting L1. The L2 implants can cause biotic abilities to spike higher—once they left BAaT, some trainees reported that their abilities were considered comparable to an asari’s, though there is no evidence to support their claims—but the L2 implant is also erratic in performance, and comes with a high cost. L2s are notorious for severe medical complications, including seizures, mental disability, and crippling pain. There have been reports that the L2 has even driven a trainee insane…

“A new implant, the L3, is currently in its testing phase. While human biotics with the L3 will reportedly be weaker than those with the L2, it is a small price to pay for a much safer implant. These men and women are a valuable resource and an ever-growing minority within the human race. If we don’t safeguard them, we will lose them, mentally and physically.”

–excerpt from the journal article “Safety and Security: Why We Should Stop Implanting L2s and Wait for L3s” by Dr. Ross Grewal (Sentinel), Head of Transhuman Studies, University of British Columbia (2)

 

***

 

 **FROM:** Georg Herring, Head of Biotic Acclimation and Temperance Training

 **TO:** BAaT_listserv

 **SUBJECT:** Station-Wide Memo

First, let me congratulate you on another successful year of training and research! We have learned much in the last several months, even as we lost many L1s to the inferior quality of their implants. May they rest in peace. I understand that those trainees with the L2 implants are a mixed bunch when it comes to biotic strength, but it simply means we must work harder and investigate more deeply the ways in which the implants affect them. These trainees are the future of humankind, and we must be at the forefront to ensure our survival.

Now, I know some of you are concerned about our lack of knowledge when it comes to biotics. Rest assured, we are working to fix that very issue. However, humans are currently walking a delicate balance in the galactic community, and with the conflict with the turians only a few years done, we must ensure that the human race will be seen as strong and independent to the Council. We are working to find a way to both gain more knowledge on biotics and, at the same time, prevent the larger universe from sensing any human weakness.

I also know that some are worried about more stringent oversight from the Alliance. Do not worry; the oversight committee is pleased with our reports, and we are clear to continue as we see fit. Still, we are behind our projected training timetable. All departments are required to have a progress report on my desk by the end of the week, alongside the quarterly report, in order to determine what needs to be done to boost the capabilities of our trainees.

Georg Herring

Head, BAaT

Conatix Industries

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) and (2): information was paraphrased from the Mass Effect Wiki: http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Biotics
> 
> *Mr. Herring is completely made up, and yes, his name is Georg, not George. Believe it or not, Georg (no e on the end) is an actual name.
> 
>  **FYI:** For those wondering, most of my information dealing with Kaidan at BAaT (Brain Camp) comes directly from the game or from the wiki. I’ve never had the chance to read the Foundations comic (money, grad school, etc.), so I had to infer things from in-game conversations and pull information from the Mass Effect wiki. So it won’t completely mirror the comic, but that was a given, considering I’m melding everything with the Sentinel/Guide fandom.


	2. Stasis

_“Element Zero, also known as “eezo,” is a rare material that, when subjected to an electrical current, releases dark energy which can be manipulated into a mass effect field, raising or lowering the mass of all objects within that field. This “mass effect” is used in countless ways, but it is most prominently used to enable faster-than-light space travel without causing time dilation…_

_“Dust-form element zero is often released after engine accidents. If a child is exposed to dust-form element zero in utero, due to its mutagenic effects, there is a small chance that the child can develop eezo nodules throughout their nervous system that receive electrical stimuli from the brain and allow them to use biotic abilities. While it is possible for adults to gain abilities, the chance is considered so rare as to be almost nonexistent. However, every engineer must consider whether the possibility is worth working with element zero engines. Due to the near-constant electrical discharge that biotics put out and the lack of control most human biotics have over said discharge, biotic abilities often mean that it is impossible for the biotic in question to work with delicate machines or electronics.”_

–excerpt from a Terran “Introduction to Aerospace Engineering” textbook (1)

 

***

 

Reveille blasted through the speakers and Kaidan was on his feet before his brain completely woke. When his head cleared, he groaned. God, between sixteen years with his dad and a year on Jump Zero, he was never going to be able to sleep in. He shuffled toward his tiny closet, pulled out one of many red jumpsuits, and got dressed. At least the regulation combat boots were comfortable.

When he stepped out the door, Rahna was there, her dark skin and hair damp, with Corey yawning beside her. The other boy’s blue eyes were red-rimmed, and his red hair stuck out in a million different cowlicks.

“How late were you up last night?” Kaidan asked as they trooped to breakfast. Corey opened his mouth to answer, and was interrupted with another yawn. Rahna laughed and shook her head.

“Really, Corey. We have training today, and you’re going to be an absolute mess.”

“Oh c’mon, I’ve been working on that thing, remember?” He grinned at them, suddenly alight with enthusiasm. “I managed it last night! Only for a minute, but I did it!”

“You did?” Kaidan was startled. Corey was an L2 biotic, but on the lower end of the scale. He could barely levitate himself a few inches off the floor, and he couldn’t warp a target to save his life. He didn’t care; Corey’s true interests lay with electronics and machines. He had been heartbroken when he found out he was biotic, since biotics were kept away from delicate electronics in fear that their involuntary intermittent output of electric shocks would stop or destroy the machines. Corey refused to accept that, and had been working on a way to control those shocks in order to work on his beloved machines again.

Kaidan hadn’t allowed himself to believe in Corey. He didn’t want to get his hopes up.

“I was having a lot of trouble,” Corey was telling Rahna, “but then I realized that I could think of it like an eezo engine! We’re the engine, and as we keeping chugging along, this charge keeps building and building inside us. With engines, there’s special shunts that allow the discharge to escape safely at specific times, to protect the engineers and keep the ship from blowing up. But with us, there is no shunt, and no specified time. Instead of discharging safely, it manifests as electric shocks and appears whenever the charge boils over, if that makes sense.”

“So, what, you made a shunt?” Kaidan asked as they moved into the cafeteria. He pulled three trays and handed one each to Rahna and Corey. “How would that even work?”

Corey was quiet as they got their food. Kaidan let him be; sometimes the redhead needed a few moments to organize his thoughts before he actually spoke. Rahna poked at the rations and made a face. Kaidan just shrugged and started eating. Cafeteria food or no, anything was better than the military rations his father liked to use on camping trips.

“You know how,” Corey began hesitantly, “we’re doing the therapy thing?”

“The biofeedback therapy? To get us to consciously control our nervous system?” Kaidan asked. He put down his fork and gave Corey his full attention. 

“Yeah, that. I mean, _I’m_ still doing it. You two are already finished, right? Anyway, I thought, if we can control our nervous system, why can’t we control the electrical feedback as well as the biotic output? So, I tried to consciously control the electricity, instead of the biotics, tried to get rid of the excess in a controlled fashion.”

“Did it work?” Rahna was leaning over, a look of fascination and fear on her face.

Corey grinned. He glanced around, made sure all the scientists were several yards away, then reached into a pocket and pulled out a metal stylus. He had to have stolen it from the schoolroom; it was the only place they were allowed devices that required them. He held it an inch away from the side of the metal table and dropped it. With a sub-vocal hum and a soft _tink_ , the stylus didn’t drop, but slipped sideways and stuck to the table.

Kaidan stifled a little whoop of delight. “You magnetized it, oh my God.”

Corey grinned, but Rahna was chewing her lip, a nervous tic she often portrayed when nervous or scared. Kaidan touched her hand.

“Rahna?”

“You need to tell them about this,” Rahna suddenly said. She started to raise her hand towards the pair of scientists in the corner of the cafeteria, and Corey grabbed her arm, shoving it back down.

“Like hell I am,” he hissed. “You know they’ll probably put me on the ‘to be watched’ list, and then they’ll make me practice the technique for hours with my head hooked up to a scanner until I drop. I could have a seizure or something! Besides, it’s not perfect. What if I try it and explode something? Or explode myself? An electrical discharge backup could be dangerous.” 

“But you’ll get in trouble! _We’ll_ get in trouble! This is something on the _List_ , Corey, you know how they are about the List!”

“Which is exactly why I don’t want to deal with scientists poking around my brain!”

Kaidan could feel a headache beginning between his eyes and he prayed it wasn’t another migraine. “Shut up, both of you, before you draw attention. Rahna, everything will be fine. Corey will inform them when he’s ready, before he gets busted.” 

“But the List—”

“Rahna, I know you’re scared,” Kaidan said calmly. Rahna was almost always scared, usually of authority and being in trouble with said authority, which came from years under the very strict thumb of her parents. How such a timid, gentle girl managed to be one of the better battle-ready biotic potentials, Kaidan would never know. “But this is about Corey, not us. You know damn well what will happen as soon as he mentions this to the Conatix people. He’ll disappear for a week and come back jumpy and possibly brain-dead.”

“Just like Dixon,” Corey muttered grimly, and Rahna’s mouth clicked shut. Kaidan had been here longer than many of the biotics still on station and remembered many more names, but he had to admit, Dixon had been one of the worst. He was an early-implant L2 who had managed a biotic charge without breaking any bones or running into a wall. It had been another item—number 3, to be precise—on the scientists’ unofficial list of biotic impossibilities: “human biotics cannot do a biotic charge without seriously injuring and possibly killing themselves.” So Conatix wanted to know how he’d managed it, and the scientists made him do it over and over. Each time, he survived, unscathed. After a week of constant testing, an exhausted Dixon came back to the main rooms, ate dinner, went to bed, and the next morning was found dead in his room. His overworked implant had shorted out his brain.

After that, the scientists had been much more circumspect in their testing, but their zeal sometimes overpowered their common sense.

“Common sense ain’t so common anymore. You watch yerself out there, boy, else someone with more book smarts than sense will make you FUBAR,” Kaidan’s grandad said once—he got in trouble after explaining exactly what FUBAR meant to a young and impressionable ten-year-old—and after a year in this place, Kaidan took that to heart. Not completely, of course. Not every scientist or scholar was out to get him. He just knew that humans could be stupid, especially in large, like-minded groups. (2)

An oddly musical tone rang through the cafeteria, and the station VI’s voice—it was remodeled to be motherly when Conatix created BAaT, but ended up sounding like a cliché English grandmother—reminded the trainees that training would begin in five minutes, and would they please organize into groups.

Realizing that they had barely eaten, Kaidan and Corey wolfed down the remains of their breakfast as Rahna disposed of her tray and headed toward Dr. Taglio, who was in charge of the older trainees.

“She won’t tell anyone, will she?” Corey whispered. Kaidan gripped his shoulder reassuringly.

“No, she won’t, don’t worry. Get to your group.” Kaidan gave him a shove in the direction of Dr. Rodriguez and headed toward Dr. Taglio. Today was a slow day, which meant school in the morning, and physical fitness and levitation training in the afternoon. At least he didn’t have a migraine today.

 

***

 

The thing is, until his biotics made an explosive entrance when he turned sixteen, Kaidan had plans: graduate high school, get a college degree in electrical engineering, and likely follow in his father’s footsteps and join the Alliance military. Nothing else really registered. There was a possibility that he could come online, but it had been nearly a hundred and fifty years since there was an online Sentinel or Guide in his family tree, and when the local SG office had dismissed him as having a weak expression of the SG gene, he figured it would never happen, and that was fine. He was content with his plans; he’d always loved electronics and their possibilities, particularly when it came to more military applications.

And then he was a biotic, and that dream had died. Until Corey and his particular brand of insane genius.

His room was painted in shades of black and charcoal, a nightlight in the bathroom offering a small blue glow. Everyone was supposed to be in bed and asleep by now, with the VI locking the doors at the “curfew” hour each night. Kaidan sat cross-legged on top of his cot and stared at the wardrobe against the far wall.

No one would know. Even the VI didn’t keep an eye on the trainees during the night, otherwise she would have warned the scientists the night Dixon died. 

He remembered what Corey had said, about using their control of their nervous system to corral and excise the electrical discharge. Really, Corey trying it had been dangerous. The kid was only halfway through his training, and electrical impulses were pretty important to keep a body functioning. One wrong move, and he could have siphoned off too much electricity, or shunted the discharge back into his system. Either way, he could have died. 

Kaidan, on the other hand, had finished his biofeedback therapy and gained complete control of his nervous system almost three months ago. He was careful and pragmatic, taking longer than most students to learn the concepts, but perfecting them until he had such control that the scientists never knew he was holding back during exercises. He knew he was strong, despite the horrific migraines caused by the L2 implant, but he refused to become their guinea pig. Still, this meant that he had an even greater chance than Corey of getting this “shunt” idea to work. 

Closing his eyes, he concentrated. 

He could sense the eezo that ran through his nervous system. The patterns, unique to each biotic, were as familiar as his own face. He basked in the steady rumble of his body until he began to feel the tell-tale jumps and wiggles of electrical overload. Slowly, carefully, he used the techniques he learned about manipulating biotics and applied them instead to the building electricity. Ever so slowly, fighting him every step of the way, it pooled together in the “hands” he was visualizing. 

Then he stopped when he realized he had forgotten something to use as a “container.” 

The current fought and Kaidan cast about for an object, but there was nothing on hand. Finally, he just directed it upward. Goosebumps prickled over his skin, then his hair stood on end. He reached up and cautiously poked it with a finger. To his surprise, he just got a mild static shock. He jumped up and ran to the bathroom. In the blue light of the nightlight, his hair had gone from thick and relatively flat to thick and _thicker_. It was practically puffed up like a black tribble from that ancient science fiction show. Kaidan tried to pat it down, but it just smoothed out a bit and stayed fluffy. (3) 

Kaidan gave up on it and started to laugh very quietly. He did it! It had worked! He was sweaty and somewhat tired, but enough practice and he could probably do it automatically! 

Then the migraine hit. 

Laughter turned to barely vocal snarls and swearing as Kaidan stumbled back to his bed. His nose seemed to pick up every scent from his laundry hamper, his eyes were seeing blue sparks, and there was a scratching sensation everywhere his jumpsuit touched his skin. He tore it off and burrowed into his cot in nothing more than his underwear. The vertigo lingered even when he closed his eyes, but his skin settled, and the scent of a freshly-laundered blanket covered every other scent in the room as he pulled the blanket over his head. His ears were still ringing, but he knew he’d get off easy if that was the last of it. 

His migraines were always strange, but strange is what you got when dealing with implants. Kaidan was one of the lucky L2s, with just horrible migraines to deal with. Others had been known to get brain-damage or go insane. Still, his migraines were nothing to sneeze at, as his uncle would say. There were two kinds. The first kind was the run-of-the-mill migraine, with blinding pain and a lingering ache that often had to be treated with special medicine. The second kind were weird. First, his body seemed to go haywire and one or more of his senses would spike. Usually this lasted anywhere from ten minutes to an hour. If he was lucky, the pain afterward was just a small ache and he was left with simple exhaustion. If he was unlucky, the blinding pain migraine decided to ambush him as soon as his body settled. 

Kaidan knew if he could manage to sleep before this sense-migraine fully dissipated, it upped his chances of missing a headache or pain-migraine afterwards. He kept his eyes closed and focused firmly on going to sleep. Thankfully, even an “easy” training day was rather tiring, and he found himself slipping away into dreamland. His hearing was the last thing to settle, usually, and tonight was the same. As his body relaxed into the cot and his mind drifted, he heard the faintest clank of metal and the hum of a starship’s eezo engine. Kaidan frowned, already half-asleep. That…couldn’t be right. The starship berths were on the other side of the station, and…no ships…were scheduled to…arrive…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Paraphrased from information found at the Mass Effect Wiki: http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Element_zero
> 
> (2) FUBAR is shorthand (originating with the military) for “Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition”
> 
> (3) The hair thing is actually kind-of canon. You discover from in-game conversations/information (it’s even on the wiki) that Kaidan’s hair is fluffy because his implant builds up static electricity.


	3. Barrier

_“Every human knows the story of first contact: how we discovered the Sol system’s mass relay orbiting Pluto in a casing of ice; how we expanded in search of relays other than the Charon Relay; how we activated Relay 314 in 2157; and how the turians attacked without warning, leaving only one small ship to warn Earth. It had happened—first contact with aliens—and it turned to war…_

_“What we call the First Contact War, and the turians call the Relay 314 Incident, lasted only three months, but those months were enough to paint humanity with a dark brush. Yes, the turians had opened fire, rather than negotiating, but to the wider galactic media, they were simply doing their job as the galactic police force. The Council had forbidden the reactivation of Relay 314 after the Rachni Wars, and when humans activated it, they were breaking galactic law. Of course, that does not mean the turians were in the right. The Council itself decreed that the turian Hierarchy would pay reparations to the families of those humans who died during the conflict, for if they had contacted the human ships instead of opening fire, the war could have been avoided. However, it was too late for humanity’s reputation. By the time the First Contact War ended, humanity had been labeled aggressors, and the wider galactic public viewed humans with suspicion, even as the Council became interested in human military prowess. This fostered xenophobia within humanity itself, which has led to the rise of pro-human extremists, such as Terra Firma, and thus further soured the galaxy’s views toward humanity as a whole…”_

-excerpt from “How the First Contact War Shaped Our Galactic Reputation” by Dr. Hideki Mizukawa, Professor of Rhetoric and Political Science, Terra Nova University (1)

 

_“I met a turian biotic this morning; it was such a surprise! She was a mercenary with the Blue Suns; when I asked her why, she said she had left Palaven because the Hierarchy and the general infantry are very suspicious of biotics. Of course, I’ve never had an issue when I visit Palaven, but she told me they only have problems with turian biotics, even though they are rare and not especially powerful. They even closet them in special biotic-only units called Cabals, away from the main army! How odd.”_

–Safa T’raba, asari merchant, speaking to a colleague (2)

 

***

 

The next morning, the migraine was nothing more than a kind of emptiness at the back of his skull and a lingering lassitude infusing his muscles. Kaidan stumbled into the shower, discovered his hair was still statically fluffy even when wet, got dressed, and stepped out into the hall.

The crowd of trainees was quieter than usual, the cheery morning greetings and groans of sleep deprivation turned to a susurrus of whispers running through the halls as they moved toward the cafeteria. Kaidan frowned, then turned when he felt a hand on his elbow. Rahna was there, as pale as her skin could go, and Corey was right behind her, his eyes wide.

“A ship docked last night,” Rahna whispered.

Kaidan remembered the sound of a ship from last night, but shook his head. There was no way he could have heard it. In fact, how— 

“Daneesha had an early appointment with the infirmary this morning because of her meds,” Corey explained. “When she was there, she heard a couple of the administrators talking about a ship that came last night. Kaidan, it’s a _turian_ frigate. She caught a glimpse out one of the windows on her way back, and you know her, she’s a ship nut, and she recognized the design.” 

“What the hell are turians doing here?” Kaidan wondered. The whispers stopped as the trainees slowly filed through the food line and to their designated tables. There were more scientists than usual in the cafeteria today, Kaidan noted as he mechanically spooned oatmeal into his mouth. In fact, there were even a couple administrators, who usually never left their part of the station, preferring not to “slum it” with the trainees. His gut twisted in alarm. 

Sure enough, after breakfast, the lot of them were chivvied into the largest training room on the station and organized into rows. Kaidan automatically fell into parade rest; just because he wasn’t Alliance yet, didn’t mean his father hadn’t taught him anything, and this had every hallmark of some kind of inspection. It didn’t escape his notice that Dr. Connor, one of the kinder scientists who usually worked with the younger kids, had managed to maneuver the lines so the youngest and the weakest were surrounded by the older and stronger trainees. Kaidan could hear the panicked breathing of little Josef—ten years old and an orphan—behind him. He wiggled his fingers at the boy, and heard a hitch in the kid’s breath, then a barely audible giggle. The panicked edge to his breathing disappeared for a moment, until a door slammed open on the opposite wall. 

Several turians stalked inside. Kaidan had never seen a turian in person; it was likely that none of the trainees had. The First Contact War was years past and few, if any, turians visited Earth. He had thought idly of visiting the Citadel one day and getting a glimpse of all the alien races that had embassies there, including turians, but to see them here, at Jump Zero, set his pulse racing. 

Most of the turians, who wore hardsuits and varying symbols on their faces that Kaidan knew to be colony markings, stayed on the other side of the room, against the wall. One turian moved forward, and Mr. Herring, the man in charge of BAaT, hurried to meet him. 

“Commander Vyrnnus! I hope you had a pleasant night!” 

The turian—Vyrnnus—made a dismissive gesture with his hand. Up close, he was intimidating, taller than the tallest trainee, with a knife strapped to one leg and striking blue eyes. His crest was long, his teeth sharp, and his three-fingered hands had claws, Kaidan remembered from his xenobiology class, though they were covered by the hardsuit’s gauntlets. 

“It was tolerable.” His voice was deep and raspy. There was a kind of overtone to it, like a sub-vocal chirping sound, but it wasn’t translated by his omnitool’s universal translator. Kaidan was pretty sure he was the only one to hear it, so maybe it was just the remnants of that sensory migraine from last night. 

Mr. Herring coughed and waved to get the trainees’ attention. 

“Good morning, everyone! Now, we know you’ve all been training hard and doing an excellent job. However, we at Conatix know you can do better! Considering our lack of knowledge, we have decided to hire an alien expert! This is Commander Vyrnnus, who is a biotic himself, and his team, several of whom are also biotic! From now on, they will be in charge of all training, while our scientists gather data in order to assist you in achieving your biotic potential! Now, I will hand you over to your new trainer, as the new program begins today!” 

Herring waved again—God, he was too damn chirpy for the mornings—and left so fast that Kaidan amused himself by imagining a cloud of dust in his wake. The rest of the admin staff trickled out behind him, and then the scientists left too. The doors shut with an ominous thump; goosebumps prickled up Kaidan’s back. 

Vyrnnus prowled forward and swept his eerie blue eyes over the trainees in front of him. His voice was a rumble that made several younger (and older) trainees whimper in fear. 

“I was at the helm of the dreadnaught that killed your father.” (3) 

There was fraught silence. Kaidan could practically smell the fear that ran through every trainee in the lines behind him, even though most of the trainees didn’t even have parents in the military. Vyrnnus’ faceplates moved, baring his sharp teeth. Kaidan realized the turian was smirking and anger flashed through him. The bastard was doing this on purpose! The turians had become bogeymen after the First Contact War and Vyrnnus damn well knew it and was _relishing_ it. 

 _Oh hell no_ , Kaidan thought, as little Josef began to hyperventilate behind him. _I’m cutting you off now._  

He coughed. When he had Vyrnnus’ attention, he gave him the blandest smile he could manage. 

“My father didn’t fight in the war.” 

Everyone seemed to hold their breath. The sheer audacity of Kaidan’s blithe response appeared to have shocked Josef right out of hyperventilation. Vyrnnus’ eyes narrowed and he moved toward Kaidan. The turian towered over him, his eyes fixed on Kaidan’s. 

“What did you say?” 

“My father didn’t fight in the war.” Kaidan repeated, and with another bland little smile, added “ _sir_.” 

There was a little gasp that sounded like Rahna, but Kaidan kept Vyrnnus’ gaze. After a moment, the turian tilted his head slightly and stepped away. Kaidan relaxed a touch, but he knew now that Vyrnnus was dangerous, damn dangerous, and did not look away. 

Vyrnnus paced back to the middle of the room and whirled to face the trainees. 

“As the human told you, I am Commander Vyrnnus. You will call me Commander or sir. I was brought in because you humans are lazy, soft, too _nice_ to do what is needed to get results. When I am finished, there will be results.” 

A shiver of foreboding tingled up Kaidan’s spine and his jumpsuit suddenly itched. A small headache bloomed over one ear; his fingers twitched spasmodically at the small of his back.

Brain Camp was about to get much more dangerous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Information found at the Mass Effect Wiki: http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/First_Contact_War
> 
> (2) Information found at the Mass Effect Wiki: http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Biotics, http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Codex/Omega_Reclaimed:_Omega%27s_Secrets#Turian_Cabals 
> 
> (3) Vyrnnus actually said this when he first came to Jump Zero, it’s canon. And Kaidan responded with the line about his father not being in the war, which apparently marked Kaidan as a target for the turian’s attention.


	4. Warp

_“Has your child glowed blue? Have objects been flung in the air, without being touched, when they get angry? Have they fallen and floated instead of hitting the ground? Your child is a biotic!_

_“Education and training are doubly-important for biotic children, and so we invite you to enroll your child in Biotic Acclimation and Temperance Training (also known as BAaT). Here they will continue their education, even as they learn to control their new abilities and renowned scientists conduct evaluations in order to compile a scientific understanding of biotics._

_“Now, we understand that, as parents, you wish to keep your children close. However, biotic potential can be very dangerous for both the children and the people around them. There have been incidents of children breaking their limbs in accidental biotic charges; family pets being caught in unstable warps; and parents finding themselves stuck on the ceiling during tantrums. As such, BAaT is held at Gagarin Station, a newly renovated and heavily reinforced space station just beyond Pluto, where new biotics can learn about their abilities without fear. In order for the trainees to concentrate on their training, Gagarin Station has been removed from the extranet, though there are transmitters available should an emergency arise.”_

-excerpt from a Conatix Industries BAaT recruitment pamphlet

 

_“Reminder: personal extranet transmitters are strictly forbidden. Should you need to contact Earth, make an appointment with the communications office. Should you see a student with a transmitting device, confiscate it immediately and report the infraction to your supervisor.”_

-sign posted in the scientists’ break room, Gagarin Station (Jump Zero)

 

***

 

The next two weeks were brutal. 

Vyrnnus began by imposing rules. Failure to follow orders meant going without water for a day. Failure during an exercise meant going without _food_ for a day. He didn’t distinguish between ages; ten-year-old Josef was held to the same standards as eighteen-year-old Daneesha, and his men followed his example as they enforced his orders.

These rules were bad enough, considering the insane amount of calories a biotic needed each day if they were to continue functioning. Then Vyrnnus began to ration what food and water they were allowed, cutting it down to the bare minimum. Not two days later, two trainees passed out. Vyrnnus left them there on the floor. Only after the exercise was over—three hours later—were the other trainees allowed to pick them up and bring them to the infirmary.

One of the scientists was in charge of the infirmary now. The doctor and nurse had complained about Vyrnnus’ methods, and subsequently disappeared.

The entire day was now given up to biotics; Vyrnnus had dismissed any other education. “Why bother,” he had sneered, “when you’re obviously too stupid to learn. Turian biotics would have had these exercises down within hours, not days.”

The anti-human rhetoric poured from Vyrnnus and his crew. Humans were _soft_ , they were _slow_ , they were _selfish_ and _weak_ and obviously _lesser_ when compared to other galactic races; particularly, of course, the turians. Vyrnnus referenced his time fighting humans during the First Contact War, informing trainees that they would never have survived, much like the ones he had killed. He never, Kaidan noted with some confusion, mentioned human Sentinels or Guides.

Vyrnnus’ exercises were long, intensive, and designed to weed out the weak. They could last hours, and if you faltered, you were penalized. It was a vicious circle; the penalized trainee would lose his food or water, which would weaken him, which would cause him to falter again, and so on. Other trainees attempted to help those who were penalized, but if they were caught, they too were cut off from food or water.

The scientists and the administration never interfered, though it was noticed that some of the kinder scientists had disappeared, much like the doctor and nurse. The rest of them were buried in data whenever a trainee got a glimpse of them; Vyrnnus had nearly doubled their information on human biotics—limits, stress levels, capabilities—within a week.

At the end of the first week, one of the teenage trainees had a psychotic episode, ripped his room apart, and killed himself with a singularity. 

Vyrnnus implemented a new rule. If you had food and water privileges, you could only eat or drink using your biotics. If you touched food, fork, or water glass with your hands, you were penalized. 

At the end of the second week, three more trainees were found dead in their rooms. Their bodies were whisked away within moments, and no funerals were held.

 

***

 

God, it had been a long day. 

Kaidan pressed his forehead to the wall outside his room. His head was pounding, and his hearing kept spiking with the waves of pain. It wasn’t so bad yet that he was seeing double, but after a week of near-constant headaches—he hadn’t bothered to go to the infirmary for meds once the resident doctor and nurse left—Kaidan was tired of being in pain. 

A hand touched his back, between his shoulder blades, and the pain dimmed. He sighed and straightened. Rahna smiled tremulously, and he gave her a grimace. 

“I’m fine, Rahna. How are you holding up?” 

“Thirsty. Extremely thirsty, but I’ll—I’ll manage. At least I could eat today, right? It could always be worse.” Rahna had lost her water ration today when she forgot the new rule and began eating her lunch with her fork and hand. Vyrnnus had swept down on the table and berated her until she was crying, then cut her off from water rations until the next evening. Kaidan almost lost his temper, but he knew his own strength, and losing control of his biotics could harm others, not just Vyrnnus. They just needed to survive long enough to be tagged as finished with training, and they could go home. 

_And then,_ Kaidan thought, _I can report this damn program to the Alliance._  

“Why are you here, Rahna?” He asked, bringing his attention back to the girl. “It’s getting close to curfew, you’re usually one of the first to head to bed.” 

Rahna grabbed his hand and pulled him down the corridor, in the opposite direction of the cafeteria and training rooms. Kaidan stared down at their entwined hands. A couple months ago, he would have been ecstatic to be holding Rahna’s hand. She was beautiful and sweet and emotionally fragile, and most of the other trainees had a crush on her. Hell, _he_ had a crush on her! At least, he used to. Looking at their hands as they hurried through the dorms, he realized that his only feeling related to her was a kind of friendly warmth and distant sorrow. 

While he tried to reconcile with this revelation, Rahna took an abrupt left into a dim hall that dead-ended in a storage room. Kaidan frowned; his migraine was still thrumming through his head, but the dim light helped. 

“Rahna, come on, what—” 

“I found out where Corey’s been running off to,” she interrupted. Kaidan stopped. Over the last several days, Corey had been disappearing whenever they had free time, which was precious little. Kaidan hadn’t seen him outside training and meals in nearly a week. 

Rahna tugged him forward, through the haphazard stacks of boxes, which turned out to be crates of spare parts for electronics. By the date on some of the crates, they had been here for years, since before Conatix even bought the station. After a few moments, a pale glow appeared in the far corner and Kaidan’s hearing slipped upward, causing him to wince even as he heard the hum of electricity. They moved around a barrier of crates, and found Corey. 

The younger boy was crouched in a circle of soft white light, tapping at an old-fashioned physical keyboard. Several crates had been opened, and he had managed to use the parts to create a _transmitter_. An honest to God extranet transmitter that was _working_. 

He must have heard them; his head popped up, a look of panic on his face that became relief when he realized it was Kaidan and Rahna. 

“Holy shit, you two gave me a heart attack!” He gasped. Kaidan crouched next to him, leaving Rahna standing at the edge of the ring of light. 

“We were worried about you, but I can see you had a project. Does it work?” Kaidan asked, examining the hodge-podge transmitter visually. 

“Of course it works!” Corey’s voice was indignant. He tapped away at the keyboard, and the hum got louder. An orange hologram popped up, streaming code. “No images, but it can transmit text. And maybe voice. I haven’t tested it yet, since I’m not sure if I can hide it from the VI. But we need to send something,” he said. His hands tightened on the keyboard. “It’s only been two weeks and four people are dead, Kaidan. I had to—to try and do something, at least.” 

“Corey, this is perfect. Could you contact the Alliance?” Kaidan ignored his remaining pain and leaned forward. Corey shook his head. 

“This isn’t an official transmitter. I’d have to hack my way into any terminal to make sure I didn’t get sent to junk mail, and the Alliance has the best encryption around.” 

“What about a personal terminal?” Rahna suggested, then snapped her mouth shut. “Wait, no, we can’t! If we get caught…” 

Corey ignored her with a crow of delight. “Yes, a personal terminal! Those have much weaker encryption, I could get into one of those!” 

“Okay then, who do we contact?” Kaidan asked. He eyed Rahna, who immediately shook her head. 

“No, not my family. They would likely ignore it, or contact Conatix. They would not take kindly to any rule-breaking.” Rahna whispered. Kaidan nodded and turned to Corey, who also shook his head. 

“Nope, parents are dead, and my uncle is stationed at the Alliance base in Australia. His terminal and omnitool would be too encrypted.” 

Kaidan let out a breath. “I guess it’s mine, then. My dad is retired, he and mom live outside Vancouver and have civilian comlinks. When should we send it?” 

“Right now?” Corey shrugged when they stared at him. “Might as well. We need to send it, then bugger off so no one catches us in case the VI discovers there was an unauthorized transmission. The longer we wait, the bigger the chance that someone will find the transmitter before we can use it.” 

“Corey, if they figure out you made this…” Kaidan warned. 

“ _Very_ big trouble, I know.” Corey replied. “But it needs doing, Kaidan. We can’t continue like this. Who knows how many more are going to die if Vyrnnus continues like this?” 

Kaidan glanced at Rahna. Her mouth twisted, but she nodded. Kaidan closed his eyes for a moment and rubbed his forehead; he could feel the migraine waiting behind his eyes. 

“All right, Corey. Here’s the comlink address.” Kaidan carefully spelled out the address to his mother’s personal terminal; of his parents, she was the least likely to have heavy encryption. Corey jotted it down on the holoscreen. 

“Okay, Kaidan. Give me the message, and then you two run off. I’ll need to get the message together, then hack through and send it, so it may take a bit.” 

“Just make sure you’re back by curfew,” Rahna said. “It’s getting close to time.” 

“Right, no problem. Kaidan?” 

“Yeah. Write this down, exactly as I say: Hey mum—make sure it’s mum, not mom—I miss my Siamese cat. It’s pretty cold up here, like Vancouver. I think I saw a ghost last night. Love, Kaidan.” 

When Kaidan had finished, both Corey and Rahna were staring at him like he had gone nuts. 

“What?” he said defensively. “My dad was _Alliance_. As soon as I got old enough to leave home for a few hours at a time, he created a code in case of emergency.” 

“What does it mean?” Corey asked, his face full of curiosity. 

“Well, if I say ‘mum’ at the beginning, it means I’m not being coerced to write the message. ‘Mom’ would mean I had been kidnapped or something.” 

“…really?” 

“Shut up, Corey. ‘I miss my cat’ means I need to come home. Different cats mean different levels of urgency. Tabby means ‘not urgent,’ black means ‘urgent,’ and Siamese is ‘drop everything and come get me now.’ I’ve never had to use the Siamese code before. The part about it being cold means I’m uninjured. If I _were_ injured, I would have said it was hot.” 

“And the rest?” 

“Well, it’s pretty obscure. I hope they remember it. Mentioning Vancouver at all means they need to bring an official Alliance presence. And the reference to a ghost means they need to bring a Sentinel and Guide Pair.” 

“You actually have a code for that?” 

Kaidan shrugged. “It’s an old code, from when I was a kid. Before I became a biotic, the school nurse, who was a low-level Guide, pegged me as a latent Sentinel. The SG Center dismissed me as having a really weak expression of the gene, but Dad is thorough, and added the last code just in case.” 

“Well, all right. Check this over and make sure I got it correct,” Corey demanded. “Then go back to the dorms. With any luck, anyone who sees you will just think you two wanted to make out in private or something.” 

Rahna blushed to her hair and squeaked. Kaidan rolled his eyes. 

“Thanks for that.” He skimmed the text on the screen. “Looks good.” He stood up and clapped Corey on the shoulder. “Make sure you get it done quick, we don’t want you caught outside after curfew.” 

“Yes, _mom_ ,” Corey mocked, and turned to his keyboard as Kaidan and Rahna quietly navigated the crates and headed back to the dorms. 

“…do you think it will work?” Rahna whispered, looking straight ahead. 

“I hope so. I really hope so.” Kaidan sighed. He winced and closed his eyes at the glare of the overhead lights when they stepped out of the storage room. His headache was back with a vengeance, and he hoped it wasn’t an omen.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, codes/codewords are a thing. A lot of parents ensure their children have codewords, particularly if they're in public school, which is another defense against child kidnapping and endangerment. I grew up military, and while my folks didn't have codewords for us (we were homeschooled), a lot of my friends and acquaintances had codewords and even full sentence-long codes, just in case of problems.


	5. Flare

_“In answer to your question, no, I don’t believe a biotic could come online as one of your—what did you call them?—Sentinels or Guides. If the information you sent me is correct, it is likely that any biotic with the gene would have their genetics suppressed by the biotics and their own mind, purely out of self-preservation. The sensations caused by biotics could prove devastating to a Sentinel with all senses enhanced, and there is a possibility that biotic ability could interfere with a Guide’s connection to this ‘psionic plane.’ Still, there is always a chance of someone with a strong mind and even stronger will proving us wrong. I might be an expert on biotics, but I am no expert when it comes to your Sentinels and Guides, or when it comes to humanity itself. I suggest you ask your SG Center for willing test subjects and conduct some careful experiments. Might I trouble you for more information on Sentinels and Guides? This is a phenomenon unique to humanity, and I would appreciate a chance to learn more.”_

-message from asari Matriarch Firatha, Dean of Biotic Studies at Serrice University, to Dr. Mark Rodriguez, Conatix researcher (Matriarch Firatha died in an aircar crash not long after this message was sent)

 

***

 

Kaidan woke with a feeling of dread and the normal headache. The taste of his own mouth was making him nauseous, even after brushing his teeth and using mouthwash three times. The dread compounded when he met Rahna and they realized Corey was nowhere to be found.

After lackluster breakfast sandwiches, where four younger kids were penalized when they tried to eat using their hands, they were gathered in one large group. Kaidan stayed close to Rahna; this wasn’t normal, even by Vyrnnus’ standards. He usually divided them into two or three large groups. Vyrnnus’ crew trooped them to the large training room where Vyrnnus had first been introduced. 

Vyrnnus stood in the center of the room. Behind him, in a corner, was a thick metal pole newly welded to the floor. Tied to the pole was Corey. 

A ripple of shock ran through the trainees. Rahna squeaked and pressed close to Kaidan, even as Kaidan felt his temper rising. He shoved it down and clenched his fists. Corey watched the crowd with wide, scared eyes. There were no bruises, at least on his face. His back was to the pole, and his arms pulled back around it, likely with his wrists tied together. His position forced him to stand, put strain on his shoulders, and—depending on the tightness of his bindings—he could lose some circulation in his hands, but at least he wasn’t dead or in the infirmary. 

Vyrnnus stepped forward and slowly paced along the line of trainees, his hands clasped behind his back. He was out of the hardsuit today, but that didn’t make him less frightening. In civilian clothing, his claws and leg-spikes were more visible, and he still had a dagger strapped to his leg. 

“Conatix has spent several billion credits on you,” the turian said abruptly. “They provide you with clothing, food, shelter, _training_ , and what are they rewarded with? Complaints. Lack of effort. Crying. Whining. _Breaking the rules_.”

Vyrnnus stopped and flung a hand out at Corey. “This selfish little _legirupa_ (1) was apparently bored with our little exercises and found time to break the rules, stealing from his hosts and creating a banned transmitter. Perhaps,” Vyrnnus mused, moving forward again, “biotics are _fun_ , easy for him to use. Perhaps he saw training as a game.” 

With a claw tapping at his chin in assumed thoughtfulness, Vyrnnus stopped in front of Kaidan. “Do you think this is a game, Alenko?”

Kaidan gritted his teeth and refused to glance at the turian. _Bastard_ , he thought, and managed to control his voice as he replied “No, sir.”

“Hm.” Vyrnnus watched him for a moment, then turned and stalked back to the middle of the room. His crew had dragged a large crate into the middle of the floor and dumped a pile of bizarre metal pieces onto the plating. Vyrnnus kicked a piece into his hand. He tossed it and held it in the air with his biotics, twisting it absently. 

“I know there are others who knew about this contraband transmitter,” Vyrnnus said conversationally. Rahna practically quivered next to Kaidan and he gripped her arm. 

“If they come forward—or are _brought_ forward—regular training with resume and all food and water privileges for the day will be returned,” Vyrnnus continued. He waited a moment. Kaidan held his breath, even as it made his head pound. No one answered the turian commander. 

After a full minute of silence, Vyrnnus’ mandibles gaped open in what passed for a smile on a turian. “Very well, then. Everyone shall share today’s special training.” He stepped back and tossed the metal he had been playing with on the pile. “This is a puzzle. Each metal piece weighs a kilogram. There are 50 pieces on the floor. There are 1,000 pieces all together.” 

Kaidan could do the math and whispers ran through the group of trainees as they did the same. If they finished the puzzle, they would be supporting a metric ton of metal only on the strength of their biotics. And if Kaidan knew Vyrnnus, he would stretch this out for hours, until even the strongest trainees were straining. 

“Once you have fit the majority of the 50 pieces together,” Vyrnnus said, “another 50 will be added. Once a piece has been picked up, it cannot touch the ground again. This will continue until all 1,000 pieces have been placed in the required shape. There will be no breaks, no coddling, and no allowances for bodily functions until the puzzle is complete.” 

Vyrnnus made a show of looking at his omnitool. “And the clock starts…now.”

 

***

 

Kaidan was dripping with sweat. He split his attention between the mass of metal hovering above them and the pile of pieces. Slowly, he reached out with a tendril of biotic energy and picked up a piece. He very carefully slid it into the puzzle, and breathed a sigh of relief when he realized it was the right fit. 

It had been almost three hours since they began the puzzle. All the trainees were in a large circle, with the puzzle in the middle, held aloft by their combined biotics. By this time, they had managed almost 340 pieces, and the pull on their abilities grew worse as the puzzle grew heavier. Three of the younger kids had already passed out. 

A tingle of awareness had him glance over at Rahna. She was obviously struggling with the exercise now as she grew more dehydrated. Sweat had soaked her jumpsuit and her biotics were flickering. 

With a soft gasp, Rahna fumbled her hold on a puzzle piece. Kaidan quickly reached out and caught it with his own biotics, now split in three directions, as she stabilized. She reached out again, but before she could retrieve the piece, Vyrnnus appeared in front of them. Kaidan blinked; for a moment, he saw a brilliant white form with wings diving on the turian, then it was gone and his constant headache returned. 

“Excellent catch, Alenko,” he said. Kaidan forced himself to focus on his biotics, even as Vyrnnus turned his attention to Rahna. “And what is wrong with you, trainee? Are you tired? Sore?” 

Rahna kept her eyes downward. Kaidan could practically hear her heart thumping with terror— _he could actually hear her racing heart_. Maybe she was just that terrified? 

“Oh, wait, you were penalized, weren’t you, trainee? Perhaps you want some water?” Vyrnnus produced a glass of water out of nowhere. Kaidan’s heart sank. 

_God, please don’t tell me—_  

“Come now, trainee. I know you’re thirsty. Throat parched. Skin tight. Limbs shaking.” Vyrnnus wiggled the glass at her; there was condensation on the sides. “All you have to do is reach out, trainee. Reach out and take it. It’s right in front of you. Hasn’t it been long enough? Don’t you want to quench your thirst?”

Kaidan knew what would happen, but he was too late. He yelled “Rahna, stop!” even as she gave in and reached out, desperate for the water. 

Just as Rahna touched the glass, Vyrnnus’ arms exploded in blue, there was a sickening _crack_ , and Rahna screamed. 

Kaidan froze. He didn’t notice as his biotics died, dropping his puzzle pieces and causing the construct to wobble. He didn’t notice as Vyrnnus gloated, still glowing with biotic power. He didn’t notice as shocked exclamations rose around him and a voice demanded Vyrnnus’ attention over the station-wide comm system. 

All he saw was Rahna painted red, with shards of bone glinting against the red and brown of her arm. 

There was a roaring in his ears, a screech that sounded more animal than human. He breathed in the iron-salt tang of the air, and something snapped.

 

***

 

There were crying scared soft creatures—pack/parliament/ _Pride_ —all around him. Friend/sister was in pain, bleeding. There were threats all around him, he could feel it in the air. (2)

He lifted his head, vision zeroing on the predator/enemy in front of him. The enemy was looking at friend/sister. With a hiss of rage, he pulled and pulled and loosed his power right at his enemy. The blue wave picked up the predator and flung him across the room. A moment later, a great metal object clanged to the floor, and the soft creatures scattered. He could smell their fear. He ignored them. 

He lit himself with the blue power. It was dangerous, shivering over his skin; he was dangerous, and he would show it. He moved forward. A silent winged shape dropped beside him and brushed his cheek with soft white pinfeathers. The feathers sparked as they touched skin; blue fire wreathed the long wings and outlined the creature as it swooped at his enemy. 

The enemy was getting up. It was snarling at him and had sharp metal in its hands, which glowed pale blue. He could hear every creak of its bones, see every twitch of its limbs, smell the aggression/anger/ _hate_. His enemy was strong. 

He was stronger.

 

***

 

**fava_julia:** I’m locked in the bathroom, what the hell?

**rodriguez_mark:** Whole station’s gone into lockdown, what the fuck?

**jennings_ralph:** VI just enacted emergency protocol PB-1.

**fava_julia:** the psychotic break protocol?

**[taglio_giuseppe entered chat]**

**[connor_jamie entered chat]**

**taglio_giuseppe:** holy shit

**taglio_giuseppe:** it’s Alenko

**connor_jamie:** that damned turian broke the Rahna girl’s arm

**connor_jamie:** Alenko’s gone nuts

**fava_julia:** Alenko? what the hell?

**jennings_ralph:** Where the hell are you two?

**taglio_giuseppe:** Observation

**taglio_giuseppe:** Vyrnnus was doing a punishment exercise after finding the transmitter, he

**taglio_giuseppe:** merda!

**rodriguez_mark:** What?

**fava_julia:** What’s going on?

**connor_jamie:** they’re fighting, dumbass, what do you think is going on!

**connor_jamie:** Alenko and Vyrnnus

**connor_jamie:** Alenko exploded with the biggest biotic wave I’ve ever seen and threw Vyrnnus head over heels

**connor_jamie:** and now they’re just trying to hit each other

**taglio_giuseppe:** they’re glowing like blue stars; I’ve never seen Alenko put out so much power!

**jennings_ralph:** my god

**taglio_giuseppe:** even Vyrnnus’ men are staying away

**taglio_giuseppe:** they’re going to kill each other

**connor_jamie:** we’re waiting on security, they’re the ones with overrides

**connor_jamie:** and traquilizers

**connor_jamie:** holy shitballs

**taglio_giuseppe:** Vyrnnus just stabbed Alenko!

 

***

 

The metal burned, but it didn’t matter. His enemy leaped back and crouched, wary. He grinned and grasped the metal and pulled it out of his shoulder. The blue crackled and contorted around it. It fell to the ground as a metal lump.

His enemy snarled and rushed him, claws out and teeth bared. He raised his arms and purple light raced over his skin; his enemy’s claws scrabbled against the purple and he laughed at the frustrated roar. 

He moved, pushing his enemy back. Step. Another step. A twist. His enemy danced out of the way of the large metal contraption—smart—but he was wisdom/cunning/far-sight, and his enemy tripped over a small metal piece and wobbled.

He took the chance. 

Leaping forward, he powered up, relishing the crackle as he glowed brilliant blue. His enemy was off-balance. There was a sudden shout behind him, the sound of metal and electricity. With a roar, he swept his right leg up and hit his enemy with a fully powered kick, and broke his enemy’s neck with a ringing _snap_. 

As his enemy fell to the floor and he cried out in triumph, there was a sting in his neck, and his vision faded into darkness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Considering we don’t have a language for the turians, I decided to use Latin, since turian civilization and culture appears to be modeled on the Roman Empire. _Legirupa_ means rule-breaker. To a turian, that would probably be one of their worst insults.
> 
> (2) In case you’re wondering, Kaidan references a parliament because that’s what you call a group of owls. *hint*


	6. Shockwave

_“Knowing what we do about the Prides, it amazes civilians when they learn that Sentinels and Guides work within the Alliance Navy. It’s rare that there are more than one or two Pairs per ship, and that is not even considering the smaller ships, which may have unbonded Sentinels or Guides, but normally no Pairs. Where is their community? Do they not need contact? Do they not need Alphas? The answer is: of course. And of course they have them. Naval Sentinels and Guides soon create a Pride that consists of the ship’s crew. It is one of the reasons that ships with an established Pair rarely have crew transfers or petty crime._

_“But that does not mean that every Pair is Alpha. Within the Alliance Navy, there are eight distinct fleets. Each fleet has an Alpha Pair, usually stationed aboard the fleet’s flagship, though it is well-known that the First Fleet’s Alpha Pair prefers the carrier SSV_ Hawking _to the flagship due to Lt. Commander Tern’s history as a fighter pilot…_

_“Then, much like the continents on Earth, the entirety of the Alliance Navy’s Sentinels, Guides, and their Prides (Alliance Marines included, though the makeup of their Prides are another chapter entirely) are watched over by the Alpha Prime Pair. Captain Steven Hackett of the Fifth Fleet and his Guide Dr. Amanda Kenson are currently the Navy’s Alpha Primes, having ascended to that post when the former Primes retired after the First Contact War and became the Primes of Africa…”_

-excerpt from “Alliance Basic Training Manual: Chapter 4: An Overview of Pride Hierarchy Within the Alliance Navy” by Commander Marie Nyong’o (Guide), SIC of the Alliance frigate SSV _Agincourt_

 

***

 

Newly-promoted Admiral Steven Hackett stood in the observation room of the SSV _Trafalgar_ as they approached Pluto. Gagarin Station could be seen in the distance, a small twinkle against a background of stars. He breathed in the ship’s clear, recycled air, and a small hand pressed to his neck. The restless feelings in his chest settled, but did not go away.

“Really, Steven. You’re working yourself up over nothing.” Dr. Amanda Kenson slid her arm around his waist and gave him a sideways smile that made the wrinkles around her eyes deepen. “All you have to do is stand in front of the Parliament and take the oath of command, let me pin you, and then shake a bunch of hands during the reception. Then we can go home and you’ll have full command of the Fifth Fleet.”

He grumbled. Damn politicians had horrible clammy hands and the women liked to wear a multitude of perfumes. It was a minefield for a Sentinel. 

“Don’t grumble. You haven’t zoned on a politician since our bonding. Unintentionally, at least.” Amanda snorted and pinched at his ribs. Hackett flinched away from her with a playful little growl, but a sound drew his attention. He straightened and cocked his head; Amanda stilled beside him. 

It sounded like someone was heading to the observation room. Hackett frowned. This time was set aside for their use as a Pair, Amanda had ensured it. They needed time alone to decompress and relax as Sentinel and Guide, not officer and scientist. 

“Steven? Is something wrong?” 

“I don’t know, I—” Hackett stopped. Something teased the outskirts of his senses. As a Prime, he had a small empathic talent, and something was reaching out. He could feel Amanda tense beside him and her ermine appeared in front of them. It was staring out the window towards Gagarin Station. His goshawk joined a moment later. 

A young officer knocked on the door. Hackett absently allowed him entry, and the boy saluted. 

“Sir! Captain Jin wishes to inform you that we will be docking at Gagarin Station within the hour to drop off Mr. Phillips.” 

“Mr. Phillips?” 

“Yes sir, you met him at dinner last night? Simon Phillips, liaison between Conatix Industries and the Alliance? He’s on his way to the station to speak with Mr. Herring. Something to do with an unauthorized transmission.” 

Ah, Hackett remembered now. A fretful little man who sweated through his suit and insisted on a moustache twice as long as his mouth. He had mentioned something about a routine check, which had pinged as a lie, but Hackett had assumed it was because the checks were made only every few years instead, thus not ‘routine.’ 

But this feeling… 

Amanda suddenly gripped his arm, even as she partially shielded her mind from him. She ignored his sharp glance and faced the ensign. 

“Young man, please inform the captain that Steven and I will be disembarking on Gagarin Station for a few hours.” 

“Ma’am?” The ensign was startled. 

“I have never visited the station,” Amanda said cheerily. Somehow, she made the strangest requests seem perfectly viable. Maybe it was the British accent. “I should like to see it. I would also like to stretch my legs on an actual walk, rather than traversing the decks or using the treadmills. Surely we can spare a small amount of time?” 

“I—I can ask, Dr. Kenson.” He said. He gave them both a respectful salute and left. After the door had closed, Hackett turned Amanda around and lifted a brow. She smirked and he rolled his eyes; he knew very well that the eyebrow motion turned his multiple scars into something hilarious, in her mind.

“Tell me what is going on, Guide.”

“We need to get on that station, Sentinel.” Amanda’s smirk disappeared, and her ermine wound its way up to her shoulder. It stared at Hackett with calculating pink eyes, but he had long practice in ignoring the spirit animal. 

“Why?” 

She opened her mind to him, and Hackett’s whole body locked up as he felt a rush of _angerpainsadnessterrorworrycuriosityfury_. Minds had distinct flavors, depending on age and personality, and while the majority of the emotions were young and strong, others had an edge of cold scientific interest, and a small percentage bore the distinct hallmarks of turian minds. The Pair had felt enough of them during the First Contact War to recognize them. 

Then Amanda pressed forward with a new impression. A somehow muffled touch of pain and _toomuchtoomuch_ that was very familiar. 

Hacket found himself holding his Guide as he came out of their mental spaces. “They said it was impossible.” He growled. Amanda shrugged. 

“So they said, but I heard of no academic papers, no research studies. Just a simple, unfounded statement that Conatix made and everyone took as truth, because no latent biotic had come online before.” 

“Until now.” This was going to be a nightmare for the kid, and likely for them, Hackett thought grimly, and he could feel Amanda’s agreement. 

So much for the ceremony. At least now he wouldn’t have to go be friends with the politicians.

 

***

 

 **fava_julia:** is he still under?

 **chilten_margot:** yes, though he’s running through the sedatives faster than we can cope

 **fava_julia:** what do you mean?

 **chilten_margot:** I can’t really run decent tests, but his metabolism seems to be running faster than usual and he’s also reacting strangely to stimuli

 **fava_julia:** strange. I wonder if that happens to all biotics who have psychotic episodes. He’s really the first human to survive one, so far

 **chilten_margot:** are we sure he had a psychotic episode?

 **fava_julia:** what do you mean?

 **chilten_margot:** I watched the video after you brought Alenko in. while the violent episode against the turian could be considered textbook, his other actions were not. he never turned his biotics on the other trainees, the other turians, or himself, but focused entirely on Vyrnnus. his attacks, barring that first biotic explosion, were precise and calculated. he was _thinking_ , Julia. And biotics having psychotic episodes _don’t do that_.

**[jennings_ralph entered chat]**

**jennings_ralph:** Margot, shut and lock the infirmary doors. Julia, we need you downstairs.

 **fava_julia:** why?

 **chilten_margot:** what?

 **jennings_ralph:** Phillips, you know, the Alliance liaison? He just arrived because of that unsanctioned transmitter. Apparently one of the kids got a message off, and the parent had enough pull to make some waves. And that liaison hitched a ride on the _Trafalgar_ , which is escorting the damned _Alpha Primes of the Alliance Navy_ to Arcturus Station! And they’re coming on board!

 **fava_julia:** oh shit

 

***

 

It was only Hackett’s quick reflexes that kept Amanda from stumbling when they arrived on Gagarin Station. Captain Jin and Mr. Phillips were ahead of them, so he took a moment to steady his Guide. Amanda took a couple deep breaths, then looked him straight in the eye. 

“Keep your empathy shielded tight, Sentinel.” She ordered. “And go give these bastards hell. There are furious turians in one of the other docking bays, a multitude of terrified children on another level, and several of these scientists are radiating mountains of guilt. Plus, they’ve got a newly-online Sentinel in the infirmary under the influence of a mundane sedative.” 

Hackett sucked in a breath, but did as he was bid, even as a cold rage built in him. They followed the _Trafalgar_ ’s captain and Mr. Phillips into an open area that was meant as a welcoming space, complete with benches, a reception desk, and little potted plants on bare metal walls. A small group of people were waiting, including Mr. Herring, the administrator in charge.

“Mr. Phillips, so glad you could come!” Mr. Herring shook Phillips’ hand with a touch of desperation in his voice. “Such a terrible business, really, this transmitter. I can assure you that any message you received was quite silly and false, the unhappiness of a young teenager trapped away from Earth’s delights.” 

“That certainly wasn’t the response from young Mr. Alenko’s father,” Hackett observed. He stood over both of them and Herring squeaked to a stop, his eyes wide. Captain Jin cleared his throat and hid a smile. 

“Mr. Herring,” he said formally, “may I introduce Admiral Steven Hackett of the Fifth Fleet and Dr. Amanda Kenson. They are the Alpha Primes of the Alliance Navy.” 

“Er, yes, yes, we understood you would be boarding for a respite from shipboard life.” Herring stuttered, even as his scent soured with trepidation and fear. 

“And to ensure the message sent to Mr. Alenko from his son was fairly investigated.” The sudden rush of horror, annoyance, and anger made Hackett’s lip curl. 

A soft murmur came from the small group of mixed scientists and administrators, and one scientist, a middle-aged man, spoke up even as the others tried to hush him. 

“How did you know it was Alenko?” 

“Because I did my research,” Hackett replied drily, “or at least my Guide did. We wondered why Mr. Phillips would lie about conducting a routine check, and so Amanda did some lawful digging before we docked. Mr. Alenko of Vancouver, a retired sergeant in the Alliance Marines, made a complaint to the local Alliance base, and was persistent enough that the base sent his concerns, including all his evidence, up to the Sub-committee on Transhuman Studies. However, when we asked their office, we found they had never received said information, and not an hour later, one Mr. Phillips, liaison between the Alliance and Conatix Industries, petitioned for space on the next vessel passing by Gagarin Station in order to conduct a ‘routine investigation.’ It got us curious, even if we could not see the information given by Mr. Alenko.” 

Herring and Phillips both had gone pale, and the murmurs had stopped. Hackett smirked. 

“You should know that my Guide and I were both in the First Contact War. We know what turian minds feel like, and we know there are several here. I also know that the Alliance had no idea they were in-system or even on this station. But the final nail in the coffin,” Hackett dropped his voice to a growl guaranteed to make mundanes wet their pants, “was the Sentinel you have doped up in your infirmary.” 

There was dead silence for a long moment, as even the unflappable Captain Jin looked startled. Then there was a hubbub of loud protests. 

“Impossible!” 

“Biotics can’t be Sentinels!” 

“He killed the damned turian! Alenko had a psychotic episode, we had to sedate him.” 

Amanda turned on the woman who had last spoken. “Ah, Dr. Fava. I attended one of your Yale lectures; I supposed I shouldn’t be surprised to find you here, my dear. The Alenko boy is the one in the infirmary, then. What do you mean, he killed a turian?” 

The woman gulped and her scent was full of indignation, annoyance, guilt, and a touch of fear. Hackett narrowed his eyes at her and smirked as he heard her pulse jump. 

“Conatix sent biotic specialists to assist us,” Fava finally admitted. “A turian mercenary named Vyrnnus and his group. He—he was quite intense.” 

“That’s one word for it,” another scientist muttered, but Fava ignored him. 

“Yesterday, they were doing an exercise when Vyrnnus broke a girl’s arm. She’s a good friend of Alenko, and when he saw that, he just…snapped. Fought Vyrnnus and ended up killing him in a psychotic fit. It happens sometimes with L2s, you know. We had to sedate him before he attacked anyone else. He—he can’t be a Sentinel, it’s impossible!” 

“Improbable, not impossible.” Amanda corrected. “And really, darling, you’re a scientist. Do try to keep to the facts, not unsupported suppositions. There is no literature or research studies on possible connections between the SG gene and biotics. There is simply a supposition that, because something hasn’t happened, it will never happen. Well, that is now untrue. Muffled as he is, due to the mundane sedation methods, I could tell he was a Sentinel from the other side of Pluto.” 

“That wasn’t a psychotic episode,” Hackett said, drawing their attention. “That was a Sentinel who came online in a feral state when a member of his Pride was wounded. You’re damned lucky none of you were in the room at the time, because I’m pretty sure he would have seen you as enemies just as much as he saw this Vyrnnus as his enemy. Now, between the absolute stink of terror and guilt in these halls, and the mishandled Sentinel in the medbay, I am declaring a station-wide lockdown. No one leaves until Alliance investigators arrive. Captain Jin?” 

“Yes sir.” The man saluted and strode swiftly off toward his ship. Hackett nodded in approval. Jin was almost prescient sometimes, despite being a mundane. He had no doubt that investigators would be called in, and that the captain would send some Marines and medical personnel across to deal with anything the Pair would find. 

Hackett smiled a slow, toothy smile at the gathered people. They shifted uneasily. 

“Now,” Amanda said, “you shan’t touch the records, you shan’t leave the station, and you shan’t go anywhere near the children on the next level.” There was a core of steel under her British lilt. “And you, Dr. Fava, will be kind enough to escort me to the medbay whilst my Sentinel speaks with Mr. Herring and Mr. Phillips, won’t you?”

 

***

 

When Amanda and Julia Fava arrived at the medbay and convinced Dr. Chilten to open the door, Amanda took one look at the shivering boy bound to the bed and threw both women out. She locked the doors, shoved one of the beds closer to young Alenko, and tapped out a quick message on her omnitool. 

_::He’s out, I need to go to the psionic plane to retrieve him. The medbay is locked, the room empty but for us.::_

_::acknowledged. will keep an eye on things out here.::_

Amanda snorted at her Sentinel’s brusque response and settled herself in lotus position on the second bed. It was close enough that she could reach out and touch Alenko’s right hand, and she did so. Slowly, she closed her eyes and drifted into meditation. 

When she opened her eyes, she was in a jungle painted all shades of blue. It was familiar to her, but she was disappointed when there was no young man in sight. Her ermine, in its preferred place on her shoulder, chittered in her ear. It refused to get down and be of use, so Amanda started walking in a random direction. Before she had moved ten feet, a brilliant white figure appeared from the trees to her right. 

It was a wolf. 

An Arctic wolf, to be precise, with dazzling white fur (that would never have been that tidy in reality) and a pair of eerie pale blue eyes. It was a he—Amanda took a furtive glance at its hindquarters to make sure, and he seemed amused when she returned to his gaze—and he beckoned her forward with a couple flicks of his plumed tail. 

Amanda followed him, and the wolf led her on a twisting path through a multitude of vines and ferns. There was a strange feeling about the wolf, almost as if she was sensing another Guide, but thinned by distance. 

There was a rumbling sound that grew steadily louder. After several long moments, Amanda stumbled into a clearing behind the wolf. In front of her was a lovely waterfall and a pool, both in shades of deep blue, and sitting on the shore of that pool was a young man in a red jumpsuit. His dark hair was fluffed up, and not on purpose, if Amanda was any judge. He was hunched over, and concern ran through her. 

“Alenko?” She called. A quiver ran through his back, and he turned his head. Tired brown eyes looked her up and down, stopping for a moment on her ermine.

“Who wants to know?” He asked cautiously. 

“Dr. Amanda Kenson,” she answered, and added “Alpha Guide Prime of the Alliance Navy.” 

Recognition lit in his eyes, and a kind of sudden realization seemed to dawn on him. “Oh. So that’s why I’m here. I came online, didn’t I?” 

He stood up and revealed what he had been hunching over. He placed a snowy owl on his shoulder; a very strange snowy owl. It had the white feathers, but instead of yellow eyes, it’s eyes were a strange purple-blue. The color of a biotic barrier, Amanda realized. The bars on its wings, which should have been black, were instead a brilliant blue that seemed to crackle with tiny lightning-bursts that glittered over its wings. 

Well, a biotic’s spirit animal was bound to be different. 

Alenko walked over and nodded to her politely. He knew enough etiquette not to offer his hand to a bonded Guide, at least, and his brains certainly weren’t lacking. He’d reached the right conclusion once she had shown up, anyway.

“I’m Kaidan Alenko,” he introduced himself. “I—was just reflecting, trying to get myself in order. Did I—” He hesitated. 

“Did you what?” Amanda asked. 

“Did I actually kill Vyrnnus?”

Amanda nodded slowly. “Yes. Yes, I think you did, Kaidan. Were you thinking about that?” 

“Something like that.” Kaidan fidgeted. The owl on his shoulder mimicked his movements. “I heard the scientists talking, once, when I was actually in the infirmary, not here. They said—they said I was psychotic. Is that—is that why I don’t feel guilty about it?” 

Oh. Oh, the poor boy. 

“No.” Her answer was firm and immediate. She reached out and took his hands; they were trembling. “Kaidan, you came online as a feral Sentinel. I talked with one of the scientists on the way here, and I think you’ve been close to coming online for months. Not all of those headaches were due to the L2 implant, my lad. I’m rather certain you imprinted on some of the trainees as a Pride, if you will, and the deliberate injury of this Rahna girl, who may have been acting as a pseudo-Guide for you, simply pushed you over the edge. You defended yourself and your tribe, destroying an enemy who would have harmed you all dreadfully. As a Sentinel, you have no reason to feel guilty.” 

“Oh.” Kaidan took a deep breath and his hands squeezed hers in a gentle hold. “How do I get out of this place, then? And what will happen when I wake up? I just broke the foremost rule on their List. They won’t want to let me go.” 

Amanda ignored the mention of a List, she could ask later. “They _will_ let you go, and furthermore, this training is going to be shut down and something else established for human biotics, under decent supervision, because just the mental impressions I got from my first experience of the station compels me, as a Guide, to declare some of these bastards _anathema_. But as for your future, my lad, that is up to you. You will need training, and we need to figure out how your biotics will affect you as a Sentinel, but the choice of future is yours.” Amanda grinned. “Of course, my Sentinel will want you in the military, but ignore him and only join if you want to. Don’t let him bully you.” 

Kaidan gave her a small grin. It lit up his face. “Yes ma’am.” He reached up and touched the owl. It bent and nipped at his fingers. “I’m assuming this is my spirit animal, then?” 

The owl gave an indignant hoot, and a curl of blue light stung Kaidan’s fingers. He yelped and laughed. 

“Never mind, he’s mine.” 

“What about the wolf?” Amanda asked, dropping his hands and looking for the white wolf. Kaidan gave her a confused glance. 

“A wolf? I haven’t seen a wolf.” 

“An Arctic wolf, with blue eyes. It led me to you.”

“Like I said, I haven’t seen one.” 

“Hm.” Amanda frowned, then shook her head. There was much to do, and too little time to do it. She reached out and took one of his hands again. “Come along, Kaidan Alenko. Time to wake up and deal with the real world.” 

“Joy,” he deadpanned, but accepted her hand with a calm focus that made her smile. Drastic changes in circumstances could either be the making of someone, or the breaking of someone. She was glad to see that, in Kaidan’s case, it would be the former. He would be strong, this one, and part of a stronger Pair, if her suspicions were correct. And her suspicions and intuition were _always_ correct.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I freaking love Hackett, I really do.
> 
> Also, if you played the games and don't know who Dr. Amanda Kenson is, go buy Mass Effect 2's Arrival DLC, because you are _missing out_.


	7. Epilogue

Corey wrapped Kaidan in a hug and the new Sentinel returned it, breathing in the other boy’s familiar scent of grease, old-fashioned pencil lead, and a kind of fizzing excitement. He broke away and grinned at the redhead.

“We still have the extranet,” he reminded Corey, “and you are welcome to send messages.” 

“Good!” Corey chirped. “I refuse to lose contact, Kaidan. You’re the only other person who will talk electronics with me!” 

Kaidan laughed. He hefted the bag on his shoulder. Corey was his last goodbye; he was heading home, and then to the main Alliance SG Center in Vancouver. There was a lot of political BS brewing over Vyrnnus’ death, and the Alpha Primes didn’t want him out of Alliance protective custody until the whole thing blew over. 

And then there was the revelation of what BAaT was really like; Admiral Hackett—Kaidan already loved that man—had refused to comply with a cover-up, and as the majority of Sentinels, Guides, and military backed him, the politicians had been unable to keep the information under wraps. Human biotics outside of Gagarin Station, most of whom were graduates of the program, were under guard as the media tried to get hold of them for interviews and anti-transhuman fanatics threatened them. 

Kaidan was not looking forward to the media storm. It would be worse for him, as a BAaT student _and_ the first biotic Sentinel in history. 

With a wave at Corey, Kaidan strode toward the docks where the _Trafalgar_ sat waiting. As he approached the gangway, a small figure appeared from behind a crate. It was Rahna; she was pale, with a cast on her arm. The break had been bad enough that medigel and the medbay’s equipment could only heal it halfway. She’d have to heal the rest the natural way. 

“Hello, Rahna,” Kaidan greeted her. He kept his face neutral. She hadn’t visited him once, or even sent a message via someone else. He had no idea what she was thinking, and Dr. Kenson had forbidden him from messing with his senses after she helped him dial them down for the trip to Earth. 

“Hello, Kaidan.” Her voice was quiet. “You are leaving?” 

“Yes, heading home, and then to the SG Center. Do you want my omnitool number? I’d like to keep in contact, make sure you get home all right.” 

Rahna’s heart jumped, he could hear it even with his dials down. “No. No, I would rather not.” 

Kaidan frowned. “Okay, but can I ask why?” 

“You scare me,” she said bluntly. “I do not feel comfortable with you anymore. You have blood on your hands, and you are not even sorry about it. I liked you very much, Kaidan, but I cannot be friends, or anything else, with a murderer.” 

Kaidan stilled. He watched her for a moment, then said quietly, “I’m sorry I scared you, Rahna. I’m sorry you feel uncomfortable with me, but it is not my job to appease you. I’m sorry if I led you on, but even if I had been interested in one point, it would never have panned out now that I’m online. Once I find my Guide, it will be a sexual relationship, and I’m incapable of anything but loyalty to one partner.” 

Rahna’s mouth opened in shock, and Kaidan ignored her. 

“As for you calling me a murderer, I am not. I was a feral Sentinel defending his Pride. Vyrnnus was a racist, abusive bastard who drove several good kids to their death. He then physically attacked you. I did as my instincts bid, and as such I should not, and do not feel guilty. I won’t say sorry about that, because I’m not.” 

Kaidan turned on his heel and walked into the ship, leaving Rahna, and BAaT, behind.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end! For this one, anyway. :)
> 
> I am planning to turn this into a series, with a Kaidan Alenko/MShep relationship, since a Sentinel Kaidan and Guide Shepard are going to twist some things about the games upside-down and sideways. So keep an eye out, though I have other projects I need to finish before I can continue with this AU.


End file.
